


Southie Boy

by crudely_caniformed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2551250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crudely_caniformed/pseuds/crudely_caniformed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"The youngest of eight boys from the south side of Boston, the Scout learned early how to solve problems with his fists. With seven older brothers on his side, fights tended to end before the runt of the litter could maneuver into punching distance, so the Scout trained himself to run. He ran everywhere, all the time, until he could beat his pack of mad dog siblings to the fray."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Southie Boy

“Make sure you get some _real food_ into him, not just ice cream bars and kettle corn. At least a hot dog or some steak tips or somethin’. And make sure he keeps his coat on, it’s gettin’ real nippy out there.”

In the front hall, Ma’s on her knees in front of you, talking at Kev over her shoulder as she briskly and tightly winds your itchy scarf around your neck, just shy of strangling you. You squirm, trying to duck away from her, and without even looking she expertly grabs you by the collar and holds you still as she jams your knitted winter cap down over the top of your head.

“Also, I want him home by midnight, no matter how many extra innings the game goes into or if there’s some kinda rain delay or what. And no drinking around him, Kev, you got that?” A tug on the lapels of your winter jacket to straighten it on your frame.

“Jeez, Ma, slow down, I can hardly keep up with you when you nag.” Kev’s leaning in the doorway, smiling. He’s got his old, worn Red Sox cap on, the one he’s so protective of that he won’t even let you touch it unless you wash your hands first. It’s lucky, he says, wins games. In the kitchen, you can hear Tommy and Joey arguing over whether or not you should all pack into Pat’s car and drive over even though parking’s bound to be lousy, or catch the bus to the Green Line even if it’ll take a goddamned hour and a half, and Jim and Stevie are in the living room, intently discussing whether or not Williams has still really got it in him after that elbow injury last year.

When Kev walks over, you let him hoist you up onto his shoulders, shifting yourself into a comfortable position as he settles you down and reaches to take firm hold of you by your shins. “I solemnly swear we won’t traumatize the kid, alright?” He gives you a little bounce, and you giggle. “Your big brothers are real responsible with you, ain’t we, Squirt?”

You mostly hate it when your brothers call you Squirt, but when Kev says it, he’s not teasing or being mean. It's more like a special nickname, that makes you feel warm in your stomach. You nod quickly, eyes wide, your chin knocking against Kev’s skull once. Ma puts her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow sternly, but you can tell that she’s smiling too. “Anything happens to him, you’re dead, got it?”

“Got it, Ma.” Your brothers are congregating in the front hall now, tugging on their coats and Sox caps and elbowing each other out of the way and laughing and swearing, filling the space up with noise. Ma’s looking up at you, now and her smile is wider, now, but she tilts her head to the side and sighs, slow and sad.

“Oh, my baby’s first Sox game. Come here.” Kev bends over, and you hold on tight so you don’t slip off as Ma goes up on her tiptoes and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “You cheer like hell for me, huh, darling?"

“Next time we’ll get you a seat, Ma,” says Pat before you can answer, as Kev straightens up again and you have to grab on again, “and some pom-poms and a little cheerleader uniform, too.”

Ma rolls her eyes and gives him a whack on the back of the head. “Alright, alright, get out of here so I can have my evening of peace and quiet, huh?”

Outside, it’s getting dark, but there’s still a little grey-green light left in the sky. Cold bites at your nose. You twist to look behind you as Kev heads down the front stairs, each step jouncing you on his shoulders. In the big, lit-up doorway, Ma's still standing, looking small, watching you leave.

Suddenly, something heavy drops down over your eyes. You turn forwards, reach up with both hands to push the too-big cap back on your head, and when you look down, you see reddish-blond hair, not rough blue cloth.

Jimmy reaches up and absentmindedly pats you on the back as he passes by, and Stevie wonders aloud if Ma'll notice if they let the kid have half a beer, and Kev squeezes at your shins and murmurs to you, "Hold onto that for me, huh, Squirt?"  
  
You bury your grin in the top of his head and hold on tight as your brothers whisk you away into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> As a Boston-area native, I've been compelled for a really long time to write about my favorite Team Fortress 2 character's childhood in South Boston. This is going to be an exploration of my headcanons about his family life, his experiences with school, and how he ends up getting into his particular line of work.
> 
> I'm also potentially planning to do stories like these about the other mercs' childhoods, depending upon whether or not y'all enjoy yourselves. Please leave feedback!


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